Darkstar
by semperfi97
Summary: It was over. He was dead:offlined. And we...we were completely and utterly alone...  ... And i thought about this question: How did this, this madness...this madness that i love, all begin? Oh, finally I had the Cybertronians enter in Chapter 5, so R&R
1. Chapter 1

Darkstar: Chapter 1

A/N: Hey everybot-i mean one, semperfi97 reporting in for my first fic. This is going to be a good sized fic and i do plan on seeing this through though, maybe a multi-chapter fic isn't the best idea for my first published item on here, but im gonna try. This is a Prime/Authors universe, its just moded so i can make it work.

Any way this is a very military rooted fic, as they will probably be the types of stories i write: my bio will explain that. Another thing is that in the next chapters i will have a lot of military terminology, and since not everyone one knows it, ill post info on terms at the bottom. So enjoy this first chapter, though i gotta say, there wont be a Cybertronian until a few chapters in, so stay with me

I dont own anything with Transformers

Semperfi97-Out

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It was all over.

He...he was dead; _**offline**_**.** And we... we were alone. That's it, the cold, hard truth: we were completely and utterly all by ourselves. Just sitting here, backed into this fatal funnel, waiting for our end to come. They'd catch us at some point, and I shuddered to think about what would happen. I mean, we were still only 16. But they, they didn't care. And rightly so because we'd caused them enough pain and annoyance over the years. How so much had happened in these last 3 years. Even I still can't believe it.

As we were just sitting there watching the perimeter, a thought seeped its way into my brain. I brushed it aside, discarded it. It wasn't the time to think about it, but when it came back, it turned and worked in my mind, causing me to lose my focus. Millions of memories followed in a overloading surge, my life in these last three years and what had happened within them all came flooding back like a sudden dam being torn down. And I couldn't leave this simple thought alone; How did this, this **madness**... This madness that I love, all begin?

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***_**FLASH BACK**_***

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The wind moved the plants ever so slightly on a warm and sunny summer day, and I welcomed its mercy from the heat.

Tall stalks of grass scraped and tore at Jake's and my sides as we wandered in the tilting wilderness, climbing up the hill towards our getaway, our 'home' away from home. We moved quickly, but we didn't have to worry about anyone seeing us, cause it was Sunday morning: who's out then? We reached the top completely covered in burs, but that was a small price to pay for this awesome place. As we rounded the crest of the hill, our eyes greeted the great expanse of run-down, overgrown, failing concrete and warehouses.

We moved fast, brushing past our memories back in here: the river that we crossed on more than one occasion, the big hill we had climbed, the pond we had swam in, the buildings we had busted into, the walls we had tagged, the buckets of valuable rocks we had stolen, the empty fire extinguishers we had used, and the main office we had run from so many times when the cops had showed up.

This was _our_ criminal 'gang land'. Just for us.

But as we moved past the creaking warehouses toward the highway, Jake and I rounded a corner, and quickly had to dive back behind the wall of a nearby warehouse. We saw a big white bulk that was barely recognizable as a car, but it was not the usual car.

Jake groaned."What are *they* doing here? I thought we made it *very* clear."

I looked again and saw the car and four recognizable Latino guys surrounding it, smoking something that wasn't making the normal smoke of a cig as it swirled and dissipated into the sky. Most importantly, the car was severely tagged with a gang symbols.

It's what the gang, called... Um, I don't know, did. They would spray their cars so when they drove up to you they would strike fear because you knew who they were.

They continued standing there, smoking away, until they reached the end of their blunts, and they thankfully decided to pack up and go. The car pulled away onto the road and screeched off, leaving only dust and acrid smoke in its wake.

Then breaking our comfortable silence, Jake asked, "Why were they here?"

I paused cause I didn't really know the answer.

"I have no idea... Let's just be careful cause I don't want a run in with that gang again when we don't have any weapons besides knives and bodies. Though, we still got those firecracker bombs if they get too close." We both looked at each other at the same time when I finished, and cracked up. Last time we had used those was when we had set them off in the girls locker-room at school. Good times, good times...

So each recovering from our memories and slowly returning our large grins to our normal expression's, we grabbed a lighter and a couple of firecrackers each, and searched around the buildings for any sign of gang members or what they had been up to.

After 15 minutes of a non-productive search, we found a total of 5 blunts, 6 cigarette butts, 4 beer cans, a bag of white powder which I don't even need to explain, a bag of green plants that I don't even need to explain, and 3 .45 caliber shell casings.

Being the technically somewhat morally correct teens that we were, we took a small walk down to the river, dumped the crack and weed, chucked the bottles, ditched the blunts, and ripped up the cigarette butts, releasing them into the rapid little river.

But what got us excited weren't any of those, it was the shell casings. As weird as it sounds for Juvie delinquents, we both were crazy about joining the military, namely the Marine Corp, and naturally we loved everything associated with it. We researched a ton and actually most of our lives were not us being criminals, but doing combat simulation called MILSIM. We knew all the basics of U.S. military tactics and knew all of our high-end airsoft weaponry. And so we loved any firearm, especially real-steal firearms. Don't get me wrong, we were definitely still the usual fun loving teens, but with a militaristic twist, all the time.

And so as we sat on a rock by the river studying those .45 shells, each wondering _'Could any .45s be around here?'_

We were about to get a big surprise.

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Terms: So for you who dont know weapon and tactical terms, heres the section for you. There are only two in this chapter:

.45: a caliber of bullet that is .45 of an inch in diameter. When it is said .45, it doesnt always mean the actual cartridge though, lots of times its reffering to the Colt 1911 .45 caliber, semi-automatic pistol. The Colt, or .45, or 1911, as it is sometimes called, was a revolutionary design because it was one of the first, most rugged, and most powerful semi-automatic pistols. Instead of loading a revolvers cylinder, you could just insert mag that held more than the 6 shooters, cause it had seven. And so, this pistol was adopted into the United States military, and it became legendary. So far it has been in service until the late 20th centery by regular US military branches such as the Army, Navy, Air force, and last but very, very far from least, the Marine Corp. But it is still in ise by spec ops and other militaries around the world. You know you made a good pistol when it lasts a century and is still being used. (i normally wont go this long, _but_the 1911 deserves it)

Fatal Funnel: This is a physical place where there are only two points of exit or entry, and may or may not be any cover in between. Fatal funnels are generally what their name says, fatal, because of some major key principals being violated. One of the 9 basic principals of warefare, according to the highly succesful US Marine Corp, is the principal of manuver. In a fatal funnel you lose all freedom of manuverability, crucial to you victory and survival. And the eney gets to impose his will on you, keep you in a very small field of fire and, almost definitely, slaughter you through there manuverability. So if youre caught in a hallway, corridor, tight valley, etc., get out or youre screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

Darkstar- Chapter 2

A/N: Hey everyone, here is Chapter 2 of Darkstar. Now this will have a few terms so check the bottom if you are confused ;). I'm trying to get through the first couple of chapters fast, so probably new chapter tomorrow.

codythecool, its great to see other future Marines here to. And Sea Knights, wil definitely be fun to fly. But theyre being replaced by the V-22, so who knows how long theyll be in. I personalky want to go into the infantry. Maybe ill switch my mos later in the Corp, but im not sure. Thanks for the review!

White Fairy Writer, thanks cause thats what i was aiming for and so far i am loving your Play the Part

I don't own anything with Transformers, only my OCs.

SemperFi97-Out

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I was still flooded with memories, flashbacks, and things of the past as one popped up that had some meaning. It was the only one left that was important before the genesis of our new lives.

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**_***FLASHBACK (ONE WEEK LATER)***_**

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I felt excited, then again I always feel excited when we're going to go back into '_our_' property. It was just fun; a getaway from the world, and at the same time a full-fledged indulgenced in its messed up and adventurous ways.

So we sped down the last hill of the bike path on our bikes at a daring speed, going as fast as we could. It was warm and very humid, making it an uncomfortable, sticky heat, and the wind from the fast descent was fending all of it off. It stopped unfortunately as we hit the bottom, turned across the street, and rode into the deserted lot. We moved across the cracked pavement and faded lines innocently until we neared the end. We quickly shot forward, disappearing from sight into the all encompassing nature. I hopped off first, leading my bike to the tree that we use to hide our stuff, and we ditched our bikes in the tall, luscious grass.

"Ready?" I said, looking around at the nearby road for anyone who might just see us.

"Ready." , was the flat reply.

Simultaneously, we bolted up the hill, through the very prickly sensation of bur bushes and ticklish grass. We had to go fast, because if a cop or a nosy person saw us _here _where our way out was, escaping might not be so easy. We soared over the hill, totally visible to the world for a split second, but soon we plummeted down the other side. We turned this way and that, over mounds and ditches, till we came down onto our concrete plain, slightly panting.

"Friggin burs," was all we could say.

I felt the annoying sensation surge through me as I felt the bumps, spikes, and balls that wouldn't give in to gravity, hang onto my dark blue hoodie.

"Why did God have to make these?" I said pointing to the burs, but most of all the thorns that punctured my sleeves and skin. Jake turned and looked at me, then he laughed.

"Dude...check out your arm," was Jakes only, slightly concerned reply. I quickly glanced down again and noticed a steady trickle of red, streaming down and adding itself to the humid environment in a steady drip, drip, drip.  
>"Frick…my mom's going to ask about that..." I paused "...whatever, I'll just make up something," I continued with no shame in my voice. Sighing, I looked around, analyzing the terrain and what things and activities each held. Deciding on the usual, I slowly suggested, "Hey, let's make it over to the warehouses like normal."<p>

"Leggo."

...

In pretty much no time at all we had made it to the all too familiar huddle of depressed buildings. But we both immediately headed towards 'our' warehouse, passing by the others as we pushed on. It was kind of sad, seeing them in this much abuse. The gravel crunched and cracked underneath our shoes as we kept moving, cautiously scanning around us. Well, it wasn't _gravel_, but just over used and crushed pieces of concrete slabs. And then, of course:

***Bzzz, bzzz***

I stopped and reached down into my pocket, drawing out my phone and checking the ID.

I groaned.

"Jake, hang on, I gotta text." I said as I opened and poured through it, having to make a quick decision. "Never mind, go on without me, I'll just catch up." _'this might take a while'_

It was a text from my ex, and you know how those go when she's upset at you, raving death threats, and the whole "I hate you!" S#!% when she actually wants to get back together again for the billionth time. Girls are **so**confusing. Then again, we're confusing to them. But instead of getting all serious as I read the text full of unjustified, undying hate...I laughed. I laughed at all the pain she'd brought me, and I'd brought her. It was funny, really. I smiled when I remembered when she was-

"Matt?" , came nervously and excitedly from somewhere up ahead. I was forced from my thoughts.

"What is I-"

_**"YOU GOTTA SEE THIS!"**_ Jake shouted as he cut me off.  
>I instantly took off, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever it was. I ran past the corner of 'our' warehouse, only to find Jake standing, mouth open, and a glazed over look layering his eyes as he just starred through a mutilated and rusted metal frame, which somewhat resembled a doorway.<p>

Cautiously, I moved over as my steps slowed and my breathing evened. Of course, that was all in vain when I saw what was inside.

The building was totally reorganized. Instead of our little hang out area with a TV, couch, chairs, Xbox, and some other things (which were now all squashed into a corner) it was the most amazing, and in my mind, beautiful sight out there. Tables were laid out, filling the middle of the floor. Racks lined the walls, and giant bins filled the empty floor space.

And what did they hold?

They held...weapons.

The table held 20 semi-automatic pistols: M9s, 1911s, Glock 17s, and 18s. The walls strung 25 military grade assault rifles: the familiar M4A1s, AK47s, and M16A4s. The bins held plate carriers, and not just any plate carriers, but MTVs and C.I.R.A.S.s with full pouches on their M.O.L.L.E. webbing. The rest that lined the floor held, of course, ammo and mags. **TONS **of them. All of them different calibers ranging from .223s to .45s.

We were speechless to say the least.

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Terms: Okay so there are quite a few weapon and gear names at the bottom, so here they are:

M9: Semi-auto pistol that has a magazine of 15 rounds. It shoots a 9mm (diameter of round. Some calibers are more commonly said in mm the inch.) Parabellum round, which is a standard caliber in pistols today. It is a accurate pistol but with lower stopping power than the 1911 it replaced. Currently used in major U.S. military branches. it is black and metal, with a polymer lined grip.

1911: explained last chapter

Glock® 17s and 18s: A very common pistol, especially in the domestic world. They are a simple design with lower recoil and good accuracy compared to other pistols and available in different calibers, such as the .40 and .45, making them in high demand. They are made of high grade polymers and metal and have a box-ish look.

M16A4: If you don't know this… well it's okay. The M16A4 is a Semi/Burst fire assault rifle though other variants, like the original and A3 versions, are a Semi/Full auto assault rifle. It shoots a 5.56x45mm high velocity round and is a rifle that is highly accurate, has a high range, and a high ROF (rate of fire). It is a very renowned and praised assault rifle all over the world because of its service to the U.S. military abroad, and its success on the battlefield. The only problem is the round is a small round, only .223 of an inch, making stopping power less than some other, larger, less accurate rifles. Either way, it's a very great weapon system and one of the greatest of the 20th century, premiering in Vietnam and continuing use today by the Corp, and beyond.

M4A1 Carbine: Same thing as M16, just instead of a 21 in. barrel, it's a 11-16 in. barrel, though the 14 in. is the most common. It is less accurate and has less range from the shorter barrel. Also instead of a full stock it is a collapsible stock, giving it more options for close quarters, and since most guerilla fighting happens within 100m,it is perfect for that.

AK47: This is also a world renowned rifle. It shoots the 7.62x39mm round. It is a medium-low accuracy, low range, and low ROF rifle, but it makes it all up in its stopping power. This weapon was made by the Russians in '47 and has been a notorious weapon since for its simplicity, ruggedness, and large supply. it is metal and has wood 'furniture'.

Plate Carriers, MTVs and C.I.R.A.S.s, and M.O.L.L.E.: A plate carrier is a ballistic vest that holds ballistic plates to stop bullets, shrapnel, etc. and covers the vital areas of the torso. The plate carriers that are used most often go under your arms and cover all of your torso and sometimes your neck. The Modular Tactical Vest is the current plate carrier in use by the U.S.M.C. The CIRAS is a plate carrier used by the Marine Force Recon, which is a spec ops unit of the Marine Corp. M.O.L.L.E. is a type of webbing that you can attach pouches to: mag pouches, hydration carriers, dump pouches, etc., and are completely customizable.

Mags: magazines. They hold the ammo for the weapon.

Okay that was a lot. Hopefully that was enlightening if you didn't know.

SemperFi97-Out


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Hey… sorry if I haven't posted in a little bit. I recently went to a big MILSIM event, Operation Red Dawn II, and yes.. It's based after the movie. Either way I'm back and I got another chapter almost ready, though school is getting tough, so I can't guarantee anything.

A couple more chapters and the Cybertronians will appear, so hang with me….

WhiteFairyWriter I answer those questions in here.

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Sure, I had had some pretty good times in my life; the Rockford mini-tour, flying my first plane, almost getting arrested about a million times, and of course most of all, MILSIM. Combat simulation was the best thing out there, but finding all of this weaponry, was one of the most awesome dreams come true... still short of joining the Corp, of course.

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"Dude, I just love this gang. They gave us the best, uhh..."presents", ever!" Jake said.

"Frick yeah," I stopped, mesmerized by the assault rifles and pistols. Dang it was so amazing. "You could say that again." I said uninterestedly. I still couldn't believe it. I could still smell the smoke of the drugs, lingering around, filling my nose. Could that somehow be getting to m-

No this was real. It had to be.

"Hey, snap a picture with your phone and send it to me." I chuckled quickly, "I need a digital memory of this just to see if I'm not hallucinating." I said, excitement and humor just hinting through my voice.

"Or I could punch you and you could tell me if this is real life or not."

"Sure... Ya, no."

We had been frozen there for a couple of minutes, just observing, but slowly, the glass surrounding us shattered and we crunched on the dilapidated gravel towards the door, completely awestruck at what was before us. A creak of metal followed as we ducked inside, and Jake and I immediately looked around at the craziness enveloping us. How could this have happened…to us!

Whoever had gotten this is definitely affiliated. Definitely an arms dealer, maybe from a gang, but maybe not.

"Wow..."

Moving over to a bin, I ran my hand through some of the ammo, letting it slide off and cling into the rest of the shells. It was 5.56mm ammo. And it was there by the bin loads.

If this was guarded by just a couple of guys, it'd be fine because we could take 'em on. We could hide from them. But if it wasn't...

"I hope this isn't from the gang, cause I don't want to get chased by cops and a thousand stoned guys." Jake said, making me laugh.

"No, the cops would go after the stoned guys and we'd get away, what're you thinking?" I replied sarcastically.

"Sorry if I'm not as 'tactically minded' as you, Rommel."

He was picking on my, no our, military role model. Or one of them at least. That's cold.

"Dang, this is a stash." Jake continued, "I've never seen anything like it, but why'd they leave it unguarded? If they were smart enough to get this they at least know this is very valuable."

I thought over their situation.

"They can't be here all the time, and who would search here in this dump? Guards just attract attention."

"Yeah... you got to point." Jake replied.

As we cut off the conversation, we stared in awe for a couple more seconds at the assault rifles, assault rifles we would only see for when we were in the military.

"So... ya wanna take one, ya know, to keep? We could just grab it and the other gear and run." Jake asked.

"No man... We would be as bad as them."

"But Matt, this doesn't belong with trigger happy druggies. Were not gonna to do anything bad with it, so let's take it all. Heck, turn some into the cops if we want to."

I didn't need to think it over, because he was right. He had to be right.

My hand stretched out to the wall, and I pulled down my favorite: the M16A4. This one, along with the others, had a grip-pod and an ACOG on it. It looked so smexy. And it performed even better than its looks... I lifted my gaze and looked over to Jake and saw he had grabbed a M4.

"Tsk, the M16 is better performing."

"Yeah, at medium to long ranges, but you can't maneuver in close quarters as well." Jake snapped.

"Hey it's just opinion," I said, throwing my hands up.

We both looked down at our weapons, and then the clicking of metal began. I walked over to a table with Jake not far behind, and began inspecting the action. It was kind of gritty, but nothing a cleaning wouldn't fix.

"Need lube?" Jake asked. He was over by the bins.

"They got lube here? That's not like a gang or a arms dealer to take care of their weapons."

"Yeah, not a ton though. And yeah, I never would've guessed."

Jake reached and fiddled in a bin, and next thing you know, a black tube came spiraling through the air into my awaiting hands.

Pushing out a pin, I opened the receiver of the gun. It looked like it had never been fired in its life, other than a manufacturer test. Perfect.

I popped off the cap off the black tube and began spraying, reaching into cracks with the nozzle and a rag, dabbing and spraying all moving parts. The neglect of the cleaning was bad, but not shocking.

"Dang, this has been abused...maintenance wise."

The reply was grunts behind me. I spun around, and there was Jake, struggling.

"Yeah same here, cause the receiver pin won't come out! It's too friggin dirty and jammed! Gosh I hate this."

"Need a hand?" I asked, walking over.

"Yeah...sure…. I want to see you fail."

"You're so encouraging, man."

I grabbed the M4 from his hands and walked over to the bins, pulling out a tool of two metal bars that crisscrossed.

"It's called pliers, smart one." I stated to him, getting another grunt in reply.

I pulled, feeling the rust and grit give way as there was a satisfactory grind from the pin emerging from the receiver. And with a loud creak, it popped out.

"Thanks." Jake replied coldly, though I knew he appreciated it deep down.

We cleaned till once it was satisfactory and better, and adjusted wind age and elevation dials on the sights, tested out the charging handle, bolt catch, forward assist, etc until we were happy.

We had to trust _our_ weapon.

Gear was needed for using the weapons, and we didn't have real deal ballistic plates back home. So I picked out my plate carrier, a MTV, and customized it to my likening, following the Marine Corp setup. Jake ,of course, chose the CIRAS to duke out.

Pistols were one thing that we both partially agreed upon. We both thought .45s were the best caliber by far, but we liked different platforms. I personally liked the USP .45, but there were only the Glocks, so I grabbed one of them. Jake went traditional route and picked up the famous 1911. Then the cleaning process restarted once again.

But during our madness, the sun had slowly slipped away until the sky was streaked in blood red and fiery orange. It faded sluggishly as it descended against the ground and soon, saying its last goodbye to the world, the sun regretfully slipped over the edge. It was night, the time for criminals, especially ones with large, valuable stashes, to come out.

The amount of stuff we had found was amazing, and I knew a gang couldn't be so well armed, and I doubted they would ever wear the plate carriers or bring extra mags to a fight.

Jake stopped cleaning and looked around. I slowly dabbed a last spot, and met eyes with him.

"So, was this the gang?" Jake asked, setting down his 1911.

It was the question of the day.

I considered it, but a gang couldn't be _this_ armed. Could it?

"I-I don't think so. There's too much stuff here for a gang. This is high dollar sh*t."

"So an arms trafficker? A weapons dealer?"

That was the only option.

"I think so, it's gotta be."

Then, the absence of noise surrounded us. And he and I both accepted it, for better and for worse, in silence.

"Let's keep alert, getting caught by them would not be...fun. I'd rather go to the black and whites."

"We could easily defeat them."

"Yeah, but high wealth equals high connections and I don't want to have to deal with that right now. We don't know what connections they've got and we don't have lives were we can go in an all out war. We can go to war for 3 hours a day and then go back to teens, but the real world doesn't work that way."

We stood there for a moment, as the still air drove our thoughts forward.

"I don't want to lose this. This is too good and could be bad if in the wrong hands..."

I looked round and back at him, smiling, cause i knew what he was gonna say next.

"...So, let's take it somewhere else."

But could we really hide that?

"Yeah, maybe, but that still could be stealing..." I examined what he said carefully, deciding.

"Never mind, your right, and we've already stolen a lot." I laughed, "But where would we take it?"

"Well, I was thinking somewhere majorly thick and dense, or maybe just the last place to look."

"Hey, how about in the woods to the north... Yeah, that would work! They're thick, and definitely not worth anyone's time if they are having to sift through it."

I pondered in silence, thinking through likely scenarios to figure out the best location for concealment.

"Hey, let's stick it under that old float car, no one will bother with that, and it blends in with nature well enough, but not enough for suspicion"

"Ok...yeah, that's it!"

Jake looked around, and he lowered his voice as I had done a couple hours earlier.

"But they'll probably come here soon or in the morning, so let's leave everything intact for now."

Since we'd run out of time, we had to get home so we wouldn't get grounded.

Returning 'our' new found equipment, we slowly meandered out of the building, to the awaiting and already cooling concrete.

The sound of coyotes filled the night, and small animals rustled through the trees next to us.

We kept walking by our memories, for the billionth time, as the sounds of cars and sirens roared behind us, oblivious of us, and our now amazing lives. The sounds of a movie theater lingered in the air, and the sounds of late night industrialism rang out from across the street. Typical American night.

We moved towards, up, and over the final hill as darkness continued to swallow us up and soon, we reached the bottom tired, and clambered onto our bikes.

We rode off, into the night.

A/N: Okay only 3 things I could find.

ACOG: Type of red dot scope from Trijicon® that usually has 4x32 lenses, currently used by the U.S. Military.

USP .45: The USP is a pistol made by Heckler and Koch®, which is a German based company, well known for making the MP5 line, MP7, G36s, and G3s. It is just another alternative platform of the .45 caliber bullet.

Grip-pod: A type of forward grip that, at the press of a button, releases two legs so you have a bipod for more stability on the ground, window, or table. I personally don't recommend on a window, cause then your muzzle is very obvious and gives away your position.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Ok, here's chapter 4! Sorry if it's half of last chapter, wordage wise, but I just wanted to throw this in here. Enjoy…. Sorry for the swearing in advance. I just couldn't leave it out, so maybe I'll have to up the language. And don't worry, it's censored-ish.

WFW, sorry your question will be answered this chapter.

codythedude, sorry but just not putting the SOCOM 16s in here. They are only used for spec ops and the original M14 is that way also. And they haven't been used since the beggining of 'nam(as a primary rifle for standard infantry).

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"Well man, guess I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

Our bikes strode to a stop at the corner.

"Yeah, guess so...later. Ill text ya."

"Can't tonight, sorry. I got some things to do. We'll see each other tomorrow though." Jake replied.

"Ok...later, see you at the warehouses at 11?."

"Sure, be seeing ya then," he said, winking.

Jake kicked off down the street with me starring as he left. I rode off on a different road.

I rode on through the dark and dank streets. It was still humid, but now it was a very reasonable temperature.

Dang, this was why I loved the night.

Scattered cars whizzed past, sometimes splashing up cold, dirty water.

I heard a plane fly overhead.

I heard a dog barking out its madness.

I heard a train rolling through the train yard a mile out.

It was normal out here.

But my life just started to turn in a new direction, a completely _un_normal direction.

I had no doubts on what we would do with the weapons. But I wondered how we'd pull off the secrect of them, hiding of them.

But the sight of my house appeared around a corner as I neared the all too familiar building. The brick walls, with stone lining the bottom. Just a typical house in this neighborhood.

I quickly snuck in the back door, moving downstairs, not wanting to get my mom's attention. It was after curfew, by five minutes, after all.

I reached the back hallway, no creak heard, and started pulling at my shoes, carefully slipping the running shoes off. I took off my hoodie and stepped back.

Big mistake.

The wood made a loud cracking noise and immediately my mom found me and the screaming lecture began.

"MATTHIAS JASON KAHLAR! WHY ARE YOU HOME AFTER CURFEW? I DON'T KNOW HOW MAMY TIMES I'VE TOLD YOU NO COMING IN AFTER 10:00! I'VE MADE IT SO F*CKING CLEAR, AND YOU CAN'T FOLLOW SUCH A SIMPLE F*CKING RULE! WHAT WERE YOU DOING?"

"Mom... I-I haven't been late for curfew in three months, can you cut me some sla-"

A hand slapped me across my face.

"NO! YOU KNOW THE RULES! NO MISTAKES! WHAT WERE YOU DOING, YOU F*CKING *SSHOLE?"

"I-I was… I was just hanging with Austin." I lied. I actually didn't know an Austin, he was just my fake fall guy.

"NO HANGING OUT WITH AUSTIN FOR A MONTH, YOU REBELLIOUS SON OF A B*TCH!"

_"Ya… I am a son of a complete and totally horrible b*tch."_

Her voice suddenly lowered.

"And if I catch you, one more time, you'll wish you weren't born. YOU HEAR ME?" She screamed again.

"Yes, I know..."

"NO YOU DON'T KNOW! IF YOU DID YOU WOULD'VE NOT HAVE FAILED, YOU F*CKING LIAR! YOU CAN'T BE LATE FOR CUR-"

I tuned her out, I had to... I needed to. I just couldn't take it... I just couldn't take it. After dad died... She just... She just _lost_ it.

Eventually the distant murmuring stopped and I felt a hand hit me. Once, twice, thrice. It kept going. I couldn't retaliate, I couldn't, or she'd call 911. I felt so helpless.

She finally slowed down, looking around. She was getting bored which was just what I wanted.

Then she stopped, and stormed off.

It was over.

I ran towards my basement and flung and locked the door shut. I wanted to hurt her, I wanted to kill her so, f*cking, bad. Why could I just not retaliate? Was my blinded love keeping me from it?

It didn't matter. I would find an escape, an exit from this torture. I would... I swear I would.

I crept down the stairs to the TV and XBOX, wanting to find a temporary escape, but instead I staggered over to the couch, and cried. I hadn't cried in so long. I cried only for a couple of seconds, before hardening up again... Shoving the pain deep down inside.

I sat up, grabbed the remote, and flipped the TV on.

It was on MSN, currently displaying the news.

And the main story was...huge arms dealer caught in Chicago.

I was speechless. Could this be true? Could this be the guy who owned 'our' property?

The man who wanted what we wanted was gone? Hopefully. I listened in to the rest.

"Franco Verity was arrested last night for arms dealing, smuggling, and buying illegal arms here in the U.S. Kathy is now live with the latest."

The image switched to an asian chic with police lights flashing behind her. "Thanks Burt. Franco was arrested in the building right behind me, where the police are coming in and out of. He nd his buddies were playing poker and smoking blunts when S.W.A.T. busted through the door. There was an quick exchange of fire leading to no S.W.A.T. casualties, but 4 out of the seven arms dealers injured, 2 dead, and one captured Franco Vasquez. He so far holds about 30 locations for his weapons, or so the police estimate. The police have raided 17 of the storehouses, but the last ones are well hidden and believed to be in the outskirts of major metropolitan cent-..."

That's all I needed to hear. I was overjoyed. This guy and his org was taken down. We were home free.

I thought about it for a little, but then played some Xbox, got some food, did some reading, but it slipped right past me like it never happened. I just saw jumbled words, blurred figures, and alien feelings in my mouth.

And as it became late, I walked up to my bed to sleep.

As I laid in bed, I squirmed around. My mind raced, wanting the world already to be tomorrow as I thought of what tomorrow would bring into my life. With a final sigh, my eyes shut, and I grew limp, finally slipping into unconscious oblivion with a smile spread out on my face.

Things only went uphill from there.

A/N: Nothing tactical here…n/p


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Hey guys. So guess who I saw the other day? Jetfire from ROTF!

I have been in DC this week and so I got to go to the hanger with Jetfire in it, and it was so cool. If you look at my profile picture you'll see the plate with the Decepticons symbol on it that they used in the movie.

And so, when taking a long Amtrak® ride from Chicago to DC, what better thing to do than write? I got a couple more chapters coming, so stay tuned.

SemperFi97-Out.

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P.S.: This is the chapter you've been waiting for, because Cybertronians appear and this story just gets hotter. R&R please.

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The days that followed our finding of our stash were a whole lot of fun, and they flew by in mere seconds, or so it seemed. But before we could use them, we had to get the weapons down to the float...

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Flashback

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"You sure about this?" Jake asked, voice wavering ever so slightly. I looked over to him.

"Yeah man, why are you so afraid all of a sudden?"

He looked around, then at the failing dashboard, then back at me.

"Well, the golf cart wasn't an...assuring experience. And this dump of a truck will have worse performance. That was a top of the line golf cart!"

"Oh come on... It wasn't that bad" I snapped back.

"Driving into a river during a storm and getting stranded in the middle of it for a night wasn't that bad? Dang you're crazy."

"I know, but we both are."

"I'm still not as cra-"

"daring as me? Yeah you aren't, but its still cool." I said, cutting him off getting a dissatisfied grunt from him.

"Just hot wire this dang thing already!" Jake complained, annoyed and irritated.

"Okay, okay. Calm down man."

Sparks were seen shooting from the two wires as they bounced together over and over, eventually causing a rumbling and an engine to suddenly sputter to life.

The gas pedal went down in the old truck and the whole vehicle creaked and moaned from the weight of military weapons, gear, and ammo as we started to travel on the crumbling and vast concrete.

The truck meandered over the main expanse and around a warehouse going straight towards the trees to the west: our destination. It was almost a peaceful ride.

Trees were coming up fast. The peacefully tall life just stared at us as we approached our turn.

The car groaned and veered left as I turned into the sunken area, border lined by two mud strips of dug up earth.

I watched as the trees rushed by. We were taking our cargo deep within them for safe keeping and soon, the rotting remains of a float cart appeared out of the passenger window. I turned the car slightly, before engaging the brake.

The old truck slid and screeched to a stop, making mud splatter up the side and windows. Jake's and my doors popped open and we hopped out to open the trunk...

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Flashback End

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Needing a place for the weapons, we had dug out a little room under the float before we brought them, and made it 'our' little room. We fastened plywood tightly on the walls for sidings and secured wood panels to the ground as the floorboards. But, a couple days earlier, we found what made it even possible...

::::::::::

Another Flashback

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"You think there'll be any more firearms in here?" Jake questioned.

"Maybe, hopefully...only one way to find out though." I replied, bracing for the impact.

I threw forward the axe at the rusted wall, and it slammed right through it.

"Dude, this is gonna be easy!" I exclaimed.

I picked up the cold, hard axe from the wall and swung at the building creating hard and loud cracks and explosions of noise. I swung back and hit it again, rust and grit showering up into the skies and back again onto our shirts. I swung again, and again, and again as the rust disintegrated.

Suddenly, the metal sighed and the rust fell to an insignificant heap at the bottom of the new make-shift doorway. Jake and I looked at each other, meeting eyes, before stepping through the hole.

And the warehouse was... disappointedly empty, except for 2 things.

Off in one corner was a small device, reeking of oil, and in another, two bins sat peacefully.

Jake and I walked over and looked in the bins.

There were lights, fluorescent lights, and wires. We looked over at the other corner and the device was the generator for them.

"We can definitely use these." I said.

:::::::::::::::

Flashback end

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And so we had constructed our room and the racks for our weapons with the comfort of light, and within three days of hard work, we had finished our little project, our little home away from a 'home'.

We then slipped into a routine schedule.

Every day we went out, deep into the woods and fired our weapons at targets. Bottles, cans, full shaving cream cans, fire extinguishers, and, of course, paper targets. We were dead accurate, most of the time. On top of that we both already knew the basics of the combat tactics and strategies of the US military, so we ran drills and scenarios with our amazing new weapon systems, and loved it. We trained every day of the week, and we shot so much we had to use body spray so we didn't smell like gunpowder when we had to go 'home'. I'd never had so much innocent fun or criminal fun before that summer other than the MILSIM events I had gone to. But after all of the shooting that week, we probably went through 4000 rounds of ammunition. Of course we had hauled over about 40000 rounds so it was a dent, but not too bad because you always go fanatical at first but then tone it down.

Then it all changed, everything changed. We were a week into our 'new' lives, but little did we know that we hadn't even started our *new* lives. I remember that day so vividly, just as if it was yesterday...

:::::::::::::::::::::::

FLASHBACK

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I looked over at Jake. He sat there cleaning his weapon like I was, meticulously rubbing, lubing, drying, and sealing different parts of the weapon's action. I reached over to the small table we'd set up and grabbed a long rod with black ends, and a hollow center in one of the end tips.

Dabbing a cloth in lubricant and slowly inserting it into the cleaning rod, I pushed the rod down the barrel, twisting it along the grooves of the rifling, getting every piece of dirt and residue I could. The rag came out slightly streaked with black, so I grabbed a new rag, the black tube of lube, and redid the whole process.

I can't remember how many times I had cleaned my M16 this last week. Either way the internals were flawless especially from this overly routine cleaning. I paused to just think. This week had been so fun, and great combat practice on top of that. We had shot and trained near the warehouses, southern woods, lake, and then some. We had gone to all of the places in this com-. Wait, wasn't there those woods we hadn't checked out yet? Maybe they were just like every other forest, but then again maybe not...

I thought it over recklessly and asked, "Hey Jake, ya wanna go and check on the back woods to the north? We never really have gone back there, but it could be fun."

He quickly pondered it and said,

"Sure, let's go!" In an *almost* totally excited voice.

Jake walked over to a rack and threw me my woodland MARPAT MCCUU top, and I slipped it on, now in full MCCUUs.

I got up and grabbed my Glock 18, slipping it into the serpa holster on my thigh with a satisfying click. I heard the click of Jake's holster, and then the sound of velcro and snaps fitting the protective casing around him. I picked up my MTV plate carrier and undid the waist area and pulled the massive weight down on top of me. It was a burden and yet a protection, comfort, and necessity. All my mags were loaded... I flipped each one just to check. Yup, I was all good. I saw a thumbs up sign out of the corner of my eye and I'm moved off towards Jake while closing the dust cover of my '16.

"Leggo..."

We moved quickly to the already sinking wooden ladder and creaked up it. Jake reached up and undid the latch, opening the hatch and slipping out. Jake got out first and I followed, moving to the opposite side of him, the wood of the float grazing against us even in a prone position.

The sounds of nature resonated around us, and the sensation of the cooling and relaxing wind swirled over me. I felt comfortable.

"Jake, punch me." I whispered.

Jake knew the routine, and punched me square in the shoulder. Gosh it hurt.

You couldn't be in that kind of comfortably in a combat zone and a 'combat zone' cause it made you drop your guard. As long as we were in a 'combat zone' we were always heavily aware, unless you wanted to be killed.

No movement came from the forest: the coast was clear. So we rustled through the leaves until we freed ourselves from the floats grasp, and got up. I still looked around, while Jake just walked over to me.

"You should be more careful. There could be cops, there could be gangs." I said to him. \

"Whatever, the coast was clear."

We headed off with the feeling we were military personnel from all of the gear we were wearing. It was definitely a good feeling. The crunch of gravel beneath your boots, the weight of your weapon in your hands, the protective encasing of the bullet proof vest that surrounded you, your eyes staring down the world in cold, hard, tactical analysis. It was the feeling that we both loved.

We continued walking forward, our eyes darting in glances directed every way, just surveying everything. But there was nothing to fear, no one was watching us, no one saw us or knew we were there, but it didn't matter. The comfortable silence ticked on, as we continued heading north through some woods. He and I had been together almost every day this past month, especially this week, and we had gotten so used to each other it was okay to just enjoy the other. It made us feel and act like bros.

We walked for what was close to an hour, but felt like a minute. There wasn't anything, no events to discern time, it was just a constant meandering northernly.

Eventually, after walking through a small grove of vegetation around a lake and the original forest we hid our stuff, we busted through the plants onto green, luscious, and open, shorter grass that led into hills. We snaked our way through them, continuing in our northern direction. Finally, we came to the top of the last hill, gripping and vaulting up the rocks, and I saw why we never had been here before: it was the densest forest id ever seen! Vines and undergrowth reached towards the sky and went higher than the trees themselves, giving the trees a worn and weathered look. After a pause, I stated stubbornly,

"Umm... I'm not going through that."

Jake shot me a sarcastic look.

"Come on, don't you want to be completely scraped and bleeding on your hands and face in the first 5 seconds? Wow loser."

Almost in unison Jake and I started walking back, defeated. I didn't mind defeat this time, strangely

We continued back, snaking our way through the too recently used path.

Then I got an idea.

So about a forest and 3 hills away from the warehouses, I popped a question sure to annoy Jake and get us talking for a little bit.

"So, how's Valerie?... She's pretty hot, if I do say so myself."

Jake just looked at me, wide eyed.

"How. Did. You. Know. I. Liked. Her?" He said in a mix of subtle anger and genuine puzzlement.

"I'm just that good." A grin spread across my face. "So you gonna ask her out?"

Jake looked down.

"No, she wouldn't like our lifestyle. And also, I don't know how loyal id be. I just don't wanna break her heart. I just liked her for a little bit…" He said biting his lip, almost depressed. But that was the usual him and me. Never just jumping on girls cause they were hot, or good people. They had to be the right kind of person as well.

"Kinda what I was expecting."

He responded by walking a little faster up the hill, towards the woods.

"Hey man wait up! You don't hav-"

But suddenly, high frequency soundwaves burned through my ears, ripping apart my ear drums as I dropped to a crouching position. Gosh, it burned! In an instant I lifted my weapon and looked around. I could see no one except Jake, nothing that could have made the noise. Where could it be? My mind became corrupted with the sound and I just couldn't think. But then the frequency lurched and the roar of an engine caught my attention.

We both looked up together to see two aircraft speeding towards the ground. One was behind and one was in front, maneuvering rapidly: this was a high velocity pursuit, and they were closing at an alarming rate. The one being chased I immediately identified as a F/A-18 Super-Hornet. The main strike fighter for the Navy and Marine Corp. It was moving around quickly, trying to get on its pursuers tail, but it just couldn't. I looked towards the pursuer and it was a F-35, 'That's still in experimental stages...' I thought to myself 'and why would two U.S. fighter aircraft be perusing another? this isn't training grounds'. At that moment, the obvious sound of weapons fire erupted from the F-35, sending missiles towards the '18. The 18 dropped down, spun, and shot out flares along with more high frequency pitches accompanying them, trying to knock the missiles off course. We watched in awe as the guided projectiles fell away, impacting the ground near the warehouses, but as we were looking at the falling missiles, one broke through. It glided through the air, quickly closing the gap between it and its target as it searched out the aircraft.

It nailed the '18 in the back of the engines. 'Must be heat seeking.' I thought to myself. Why else would it seek out the engine? The engine burst into flames and an explosion followed, but yet, the aircraft was still flying. "¿Que collar?" I said, swearing in Espanol.

Obviously, the second aircraft saw its chance and fired a whole other barrage of missile towards it, with the explosions sending the F/A-18 careening out of the sky.

'How was it not in a million piec-'

Unfortunately, not every shot hit. Three missiles broke through.

"GET DOWN!" I barked, too late for any good.

Three explosions ripped apart the top of the hill, throwing me back. I soared for a second, before crashing to the ground in a large thud, crumpling onto the earth. I could feel the blood coarsing through me, but I wasn't majorly hurt… or was I? I checked myself over, still dazed from the flight, and found no bleeding. I was okay for now. Hey, but where was…

"JAKE!"

"He-" cough, cough, "-re." Jake groaned slowly, somewhere in the distance.

I looked around, smoke, haze, and burning surrounded us. I was in state of shock, nothing was working and I couldn't get u-. No I wouldn't be. I will fight! I pushed the shock away harshly, thinking over our situation.

I got up, stiff, feeling hot liquid flow from my nose. I coughed twice, the same fluid landing on my hand . I guess I was wrong. I shrugged it off and proceeded to raise my weapon quickly trying to develop the situation.

I observed everything, taking in what I could in this hazed and blinding environment. The sound of fighting came from the left of us, but I couldn't see it because of the smoke. It sounded like two hostiles fighting...but where did those planes go?

I knew if we came around the hill side we could get on their flank, but most of all just get a visual. Then we could get better shots, and have more cover considering the rocky landscape over the hill.

But first I had to find Jake.

"Jake, where are you?"

Jake, almost on cue, appeared out of the haze, weapon raised, searching everything. He moved towards me, his eyes darting around the landscape to make sure we wouldn't get jumped.

"Jake, I gotta start of a course of action. Let's do a turning movement to the left around the base of the hill so we know how to counter the threat."

Jake gave a nod with a small amount of eye contact, obviously understanding my intentions. He grabbed my shoulder and with sync we pushed off, me looking one way, and Jake checking the rear for security. We glided across the base of the hill, the smoke and smoldering fire clearing as we got further and further down the slope, closer to our objective. The weapon fire was now a lot more intense. There must've been more people than I had thought over there, but even then the weapons didn't sound quite righ- We got to the edge of the base of the hill, and quickly checked around us. I gave the all clear and he responded back: all clear. We were good to go.

We moved around the bend. Jake turned towards the front and we both looked forward as we got to a final rock sticking out of the grass. Creeping slowly up behind it , we got down, still hearing the weapons discharging at a steady rate. He looked at me and I nodded. Distancing ourselves from the outcropping and raising our weapons, the two of us popped out in perfect sync, him crouching, me standing, and both in a low profile stance, 'hugging' the rock.

My eyes widened. There weren't more than two people, there weren't even people. We held our stares in shock, confusion, and awe, because what we saw would forever shake our world: TWO F*%ING GIANT ROBOTS WERE FIGHTING! I blinked, making sure I wasn't hallucinating. Who knows what was in that smoke. There could be drugs, couldn't there? Sure enough, they were still there, duking it out. I ducked back with Jake, both of us taking all of it in.

"How is this possible?"

"I-I don't know..."

We needed to do something, cause I wasn't gonna sit on the sidelines. You don't do that in combat. Plus I wasn't gonna pass up getting intel on this, and maybe avoiding a confrontation with them. Plus, they might not be able or in the setting for a talk.

Soon, a completer course of action popped into my head.

"Hang on.."

Moving back out, I quickly surveyed the two again, looking for any weakness on them or their positions. Thankfully we still had surprise on our side.

One was gold and green in color with glowing yellow "eyes"? He/ it had a…Minigun? It was a Vulcan cannon that he was firing Rambo style, still maintaining accuracy. Large surfaces poked from his back and his form had a kind of slender but wide chest, and not many exposed areas. He was currently half behind a hill that hid him from the other, but not us.

The other one was grey and black and had some surface ar- wings? That's what they looked like! They were sticking out of his back, and his arm was a type of firearm? His arm was? He seemed to have some, but not many, exposed areas and he was behind a hill that wrapped around him, giving him decent cover.

I considered what I saw, the weak points, the strategic positions, the cover, before I spoke,

"Okay…. they got armor on most of them, but there are exposed wires and cables. Most of our fires gotta be suppressive, but if you get a clear shot at an exposed spot, take it. That is, if they're hostile." I finished remembering we weren't necessarily fighting. Dang I jumped the gun on that.

I looked over, searching for more cover and places to maneuver and I saw another boulder forward and to the right about 15 meters away.

It would offer a better position, and we could alternate fire, plus it could be the beginning of a envelopment maneuver or a double envelope...

"Jake, give me over-watch. I want to get over to that boulder at 15 meters, 2 o clock?"

He looked and saw it, then looked over his sector of fire really quickly and said,

"Got it. Ready? Run in 3, 2, 1, move it!"

I booked it across, checking over my shoulder to see the two. As I neared the cover, I quickly got crouched and ducked down fast behind the boulder. When no shots ripped apart the ground in front, I popped out the other side from where I had come.

What I saw was one robot, the grey and black, on the ground, and the other, the green and gold, looming over him, his weapon raised execution style. Dang they were huge, and I was about 100 feet away, which allowed me to be close and more maneuverable, but way to close to that powerful weapon system, which I wasn't gonna underestimate any time soon.

I backed up checking on Jake. He had his weapon raised, watching and analyzing at the same time.

I looked back watching, waiting for whatever happened next: the standing one spoke.

"You... You fool! NO ONE betrays Megatron and gets away with it! If we didn't have incompetent glitches like you who constantly questioned the orders of our leader, we would have conquered the universe by now! We would be glorious!..." The victorious, gold and green one finished as he dreamily stared off. He snapped out of it, "So, any last words you want to say you fragging glitchhead?"

I shuddered, he said the last part so slyly, so evilly, it was gut wrenching.

Then the second spoke, "So this is what its all about, Megatron's personal greed and glory? You said we were the correct side, everyone said we were just!" Hurt was evident in his metallic voice.

"Oh, but we are the right side, glitchtard. And I'm afraid those are what you used your final words on. Hahaha...I'm gonna enjoy this. I'm gonna kill you slowly, you hear? It will be the most painful time of your life you pit-spawned good-doing Decepticon."

It was obvious what was gonna happen next, and I wasn't gonna let it happen. No one deserves to be tortured like that, and he said good doing like doing what was right was the wrong thing. Evil. Plus the one on the ground just wanted the truth. And so, it was obvious who was the enemy, and I already saw some of his weaknesses: his exposed waist, wires on his arms, and openings in his foot area and back. On top of that his eye things were pretty delicate looking. In a second I thought over my original plan of action. It wasn't much, but it was still a plan soooo-without fully thinking it through, I popped out, and aimed my rifle at a hole in his back and I could see Jake doing the same thing out of the corner of my eye. I flipped my M16 to three round burst...and fired.

He screamed out in pain, whipping around in disbelief, radiating with murder. I cracked off 5 more bursts, the first ripped at his hip, the next three were suppressive at his chest, and the fifth, towards his exposed neck/back area.

I ducked back as fire and molten rock spewed from the front of the boulder, almost throwing me to the ground. Jake's rifle cracked and the shots from the robot died, and started up again hitting 15 meters away. Immediately I popped back up, and popped in a couple more bursts, hitting his chest again. I kept shooting as he turned, opening his side to Jake, but he still didn't turn enough for us to exploit those weaknesses.

The gut feeling that I had trained into myself came again: I had to move. He was weaker on his sides, especially from under, and if I moved to the right, we would have a double envelopment maneuver goi-.

I fired more and more bursts in suppressive fire as I ran towards the next piece of cover. Jake caught my drift and upped his fire rate as I ran, covering for me until I made it to the outcropping and crouched behind the new boulder, changed mags, and popped out again firing, hitting him on his side. Getting back, I went to the other side, shot, then suppressed and moved. I could see Jake doing the same thing, out-maneuvering this thing as he was on the side of the hill now.

I looked out from my cover. The black and grey one was still on th ground with the yellow and green one turning to finish him off. I unloaded the whole magazine.

I was clear for the moment after that, so after a small discharge of rounds, I moved across an open area to a small mound of earth and slid down behind it. Taking a deep breath, I looked out, causing a smile to spread across my face. Our maneuver worked!

He was completely exposed. His arms were showing, his waist was open, and his eyes were bright in shock. He was trying to escape us, to get out of his death, but we were pinning him behind his current hill. And now realizing his mistake, his second arm flipped and twirled into another weapon and he fired at both of us while falling back at the same time. Wait..._**flipped and twirled?**_

But two 30 round mags dumped out their rounds in about a grand total of 2 seconds, filling the air with extravagant violence. And as quickly as it started, it all ended with a terrible screech of metal. The figure fell and collapsed faceplate first onto the ground.

I stood there, panting, looking forward down a perfect red dot sight into smoke, haze, and erupting sparks. Cautiously, my feet carried me forward, from cover to cover. I moved at the medium paced speed, the perfect combat speed, until I was only about 25 feet away from that menacing figure. It was so surreal. But as the smoke cleared, I could see the very big figure on the ground. and he was still moving...barely.

I gulped.

A wind swiftly came and went, and everything was as clear as day again. The figure was on the ground, sparking, and leaking fluids all over the earth.

"You puny fleshlings, you can't do this!" Weakness, pain, and embarrassment were very visible in his voice.

Then the figure slowly got up, much to my shock. Glowering over us. I could see Jake shocked as well. These beings just wouldn't die.

I lifted my rifle and put it on semi before he could do anything. I lifted the dot into the yellow light, and double tapped.

He screamed, and I switched optics.

Another two shots rang out.

**THUD**

He fell back there, but somehow slowly he got back up, only to be greeted by the bursts of our rifles, and he screeched in indescribable pain, again. He started to fall, but was suddenly caught. I stared up as a figure moved his arm down, made a sound of charging energy, and fired. Sparks and fire exploded with debris of metals and wiring, spewing them all over, stinging my skin as some landed on my face. More terrible screeches followed with screams, but soon they faded as well.

And...it was dead.

"Finally," I muttered. I looked as his lifeless form was dropped and landed on the ground with a crash, its body conforming the earth to it.

Slowly, I looked up, realizing what I would see. There in front of us was the second gigantic robot, staring straight down at Jake and I with a stagnant, emotionless look.

But a pained smile cracked his burnt and scarred face, and he uttered two simple, and meaningful words.

"Th-Thank... Y-you."

And with that, his body shuddered, his optics faded, and he collapsed five feet from me, causing the ground to shake and me to go flying again.

And so there he laid, having landed right next to our dead enemy.

How ironic.

But now, we had **much** bigger problems on our hands.

A/N: Okay, this isn't necessarily gear, but more tactics. I was disappointed I didn't use bounding in this chapter, but I'll definitely be using it in the next combat scene.

Envelopment maneuver: This is the more formal term for something you've all probably heard: Flanking. Flanking is a two pronged attack: a supporting assault and a primary assault. The primary assault moves to the weak spot of the enemies side or back and then starts assaulting there. That's where most people stop, but that is not a flanking maneuver, you are simply just switching up the lines and it is not effective. A flanking maneuver is where you have the supporting assault hitting them head on, holding them in place and either moving up or creating a stalemate. They hold the enemy there while the primary assaulting force rips through their sides, destroys there supply lines and means of escape, and eradicates them from that weak point.

Seems so simple right? Yeah it is, but it works sooo well when done right. I've had experience with this in MILSIM.

Turning Movement: This is where you just turn around the bulk of the enemies defenses to get a better angle or destroy something behind enemy lines.

Over-Watch: this is a form of bounding. One person watches over the other and will open fire to cover for him if needed, while the other maneuvers. Can be done with 2 people to entire Corps of military personnel.

A/N: Okay that's all I saw in there, hope you enjoyed. I'm gonna try to keep them to that shorter length but I just had to rant on flanking.

SemperFi97-Out.


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